


Now's Not The Time For Your Existensial Crisis (What If I Had One Anyway)

by drifterlovemail



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Suicide, drifter cant relate, drifter has issues with his own mortality and being a guardian, kind of, messy! imagine keeping together ur relationships normally, shin kinda has to deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 14:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20360221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drifterlovemail/pseuds/drifterlovemail
Summary: “Don’t touch me with that shit.”“You’re impaled.” Even out of breath and panicked, Shin manages to sound completely fed up with him.





	Now's Not The Time For Your Existensial Crisis (What If I Had One Anyway)

No matter how many times he gets stabbed, it doesn’t really become less painful. Going through relationships like the Drifter does, well — he’s been stabbed plenty, to leave it at that.  
  
Jiji always brings him back, or stitches the wounds together easy. He’s had plenty of time to practice it. The little ghost appears then, still covered in the faux chocolate of a sugar shell since last Crimson Days, and Drifter silently waves him off until he vanishes.

  


Shin doesn’t know as well. Granted, it’s about normal human instinct when someone has a massive piece of shrapnel in their side, but Drifter thinks he should expect this by now. As soon as Shin makes the last Fallen shank topple over with a hit of void light he’s at Drifter’s side. Cooling gel, bandages - some shit in a red case Drifter can’t quite identify.  
“Don’t touch me with that shit.”  
“You’re impaled.” Even out of breath and panicked, Shin manages to sound completely fed up with him.  
“You put any of that shit on me, Malphur, I’ll drag you down with me.”  
Fine, Shin determines. Still heaving for breath, he lets himself fall back against the metal wall Drifter’s dragged himself to. Does everything have to be so difficult with him? Stupid question. Doesn’t stop him from asking it. He reaches for the hand cannon at his thigh and whatever spare ammo is in his pocket. It fills Drifter with enough spite to reach out and stop him.  
“You’re going to die.” Shin tells him.  
“Like you care.” Drifter snaps, and leans against Shin’s shoulder, the warmth of him. “’Sides, Malphur, it’s good to die slow every once in awhile.You should try it sometime.”  
It’s funny how often sincere advice from the Drifter sounds like a threat. Shin leads into Drifter’s weight and keeps a hand under his chin so he doesn’t lean into the pain. The least he can do, in his mind’s eye. He could say plenty about how disgusting of a sight this is, or end it quicker than Drifter could protest, but it’s just going to get a returned bullet once Jiji brings him back around. Easier to let Drifter get the energy out and have him fine for another month.  
“You’ve been doing this for years. Ever getting tired of it?” Shin asks, and lets his eyes fall shut.  
“No.” Drifter says, simply. 

Shin Malphur doesn’t need the explanation, and Drifter determines he doesn’t owe it. His stupid, clawing desperation to stay familiar with mortality is his business and his business alone. Not that it’s any fun. The servitor shard moves with every muscle and feels like it tears something new with each shift. Probably is, he thinks, but whatever. It’ll make it all the quicker.  
Shin keeps talking, whispering against Drifter’s head. “We got surrounded by Hive on Mars. Sword got you right in the ribs, wouldn’t let me do the rest. You never change.”  
“Neither do you.” Drifter hisses out. “You ever gonna shut the fuck up, or let me die in peace?”  
Shin goes to make a joke about babysitting him through it then, too, and bites his tongue.


End file.
